


The Crescent and Her Alchemist

by DG_DarkFantasy, Shayla Schlaraffenland (ShayLaLaLooHoo)



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Collaboration, Crush swap, Gen, Varian is more careful with his inventions as an adult, and Cass is even stabbier than usual, in which Cassandra is a fitey angy 15yo baby, the primary author has executive dysfunction and depression, the reader needs patience, this was a what-if au that got out of hand, with a crush on an adorkable 23yo Varian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DG_DarkFantasy/pseuds/DG_DarkFantasy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShayLaLaLooHoo/pseuds/Shayla%20Schlaraffenland
Summary: Cassandra, at 14 years old, is made the unwilling lady-in-waiting to Princess Rapunzel.But what's worse? No one treats her like she knows what she wants. Ever since she was brought to the castle, she's wanted to follow in her father's footsteps and join the Corona guard. She was made to fight, not sit around and sew and gossip. But being a lady-in-waiting is a lifelong commitment that no one believes she can—or should—escape.No one, that is, except an awkward young man from Old Corona, who's as much a misfit as she is.An AU in which Cassandra (14-16 years old) has a crush on Varian (22-24 years old)
Relationships: Cassandra & Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled), Cassandra & Varian (Disney: Tangled), Cassandra/Varian (Disney: Tangled)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 74





	1. Before Ever After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The Fight for Corona Family](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+Fight+for+Corona+Family).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cassandra's situation is introduced (essentially, this is orientation for you guys.)

At fourteen, Cassandra was made lady-in-waiting to the no-longer-Lost Princess.

Being chosen so young was a testament to her work ethic and professionalism. It’s an honor, her father said.

It’s _exhausting._ Her responsibilities were the most boring in the world. Laundry. Sewing. Assorted meaningless errands. Curtsying and acting demure while the princess handled her own responsibilities, which were only slightly less boring than Cass’s and no fun to watch.

Even more exhausting were the people she had to deal with. The other maids and handmaidens gossiped, (somehow they found entertainment in that,) and it was usually about whomever wasn’t around at the time. Cass reasoned it was no different with her, and as the princess’s lady-in-waiting, she had a position they envied, so what they said about her was probably worse than Fearful Faith or Old Lady Crowley. Some of the guards were more condescending than before; whenever Cass mentioned that she wanted to follow her father’s footsteps, they’d just mention that her job was a life-long commitment, shutting her down immediately. And she couldn’t go to her father to complain; he knew, or rather hoped, that she’d grow into the role of a proper lady at some point, and he’d probably have the same opinion as those guards. He wouldn’t even let her cut her hair higher than her shoulders until the princess returned, bringing bobs back in style.

Speaking of, the princess’s boyfriend was the most obnoxious person Cassandra had ever met.

But then there was the princess herself. Princess Rapunzel wasn’t necessarily demanding or selfish, but she was needy and clingy. She _so_ wanted Cassandra to be the little sister she never got, so the princess set up all sorts of activities that Cass didn’t want to do, and Cass had to balance picnics and letting Rapunzel braid her hair with the rest of her responsibilities.

Rapunzel grew on her, though. She made the “lady-in-waiting” title a little less horrible. She treated Cassandra like an equal and knew how it felt to be trapped. (The princess’s empathy, however, was questionable; she couldn’t read a room—or Cass, for that matter—to save her life. But that could be exercised, and she could learn. Hopefully.) So when they both felt trapped the night before Rapunzel’s coronation, Cass sympathized with her. She offered Rapunzel one night outside the castle walls.

And everything changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Cassarian work posted publicly. I set up a different pseud, since I hope to write more for this pairing.  
> I also hope that by posting chapters without having the entire piece written will encourage me to actually finish a fanfiction in a timely manner, lol.
> 
> Comments are moderated.


	2. What the Hair?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra meets Varian. He's...unique.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine that Cap isn’t going to let Cass wear tunics and keep a sword strapped to her back when she’s a teen. He still thinks that she needs to be a “proper lady” for people to respect her, so Cass will have to prove herself before she can dress how she wants.  
> So for now, Cass is probably wearing as short a dress she can get away with and leggings.
> 
> EDITS 3/6/2021: Added Cassandra grabbing Varian by the arm before tackling him aside.

Gossip usually doesn’t interest Cassandra, so the other handmaidens don’t think she’s listening in on their conversation. After her first encounter with magic, she’ll at least humor the idea of a wizard—whatever it takes to figure out what happened that night.

“He nearly destroyed Old Corona,” Ethel states. “Many times.”

“It hasn’t been so bad, recently,” a soft voice says. “I mean, when’s the last time anyone came with a serious complaint?”

“Really, Faith? He’s just biding his time. He’s always got something.”

“Someone came last week, anyway.”

Faith dares to speak up again. “Well, yeah, but the woman herself admitted that Varian hadn’t done anything. She only had suspicions, and there was no evidence—”

“She wouldn’t suspect anything if there wasn’t anything suspicious in the first place.”

“Leave her alone, Ethel. Faith has a soft spot for him.”

Faith splutters out an argument, much to the others’ amusement; Cassandra interrupts before the subject changes to picking on the poor girl. “Why won’t the king do anything about him?”

“He’s still in Quirin’s care.” Ethel answers.

“I don’t know if I trust Quirin,” a handmaiden says. “He appears out of nowhere one day, refuses to tell anyone where he’s from, and is decreed the leader of Old Corona?”

“He moved to Corona while the queen was sick, right?” Ethel asks.

“Probably took advantage of the king’s desperation...”

The conversation trails off with most of the maids looking over their shoulders, as if the royal family will suddenly show up and have them all thrown in the dungeons for even daring to mention them. Cassandra guesses that’ll be the last she’ll hear of this wizard for now, so she finishes Rapunzel’s laundry quickly, hoping that will buy her some time to make a plan to meet Varian.

She’s already figuring out where to begin. Varian: a wizard under the care of a man named Quirin, the leader (lord, vassal, whatever) of Old Corona. There’s only one large home there, with how small the village is. That’s as good a place to start as any.

Cassandra knew better than to trust in rumors. She _knows_ that she knew that, but she still feels spectacularly foolish when she and the princess finally meet Varian. She’d expected some bearded, stoic, Demanitus-type old man who’d address them by their titles, and he’d cast some spells and dump some potions on Rapunzel’s hair, and _boom,_ they’d get answers.

Instead, they got a lanky, twenty-odd-year-old nerd with freckles and a gap in his buck teeth. Varian makes big, energetic movements as he shows them his inventions; he’s on the verge of bragging, and Cass is wary. The braggarts are usually the most condescending, so she doesn’t have much hope that he’ll take her seriously.

“This machine can analyze any substance for chemical makeup, bitopic composition, and ergo-structural integrity,” he says, and almost every word of that goes over Cass’s head. He nudges it with his elbow, and the thing jumps into a standing position, perfectly displaying its halo of dangerously sharp objects.

“I built it myself.” Varian grins with a mock bow.

“Nice!” Rapunzel says, taking a step forward.

“If I’m right,” he goes to one of his tables, grabbing some weird device loaded with parchment and multiple buttons, “this should tell us all there is know about your hair.”

Cassandra stares at him for a moment before examining the lab. She’s uncomfortable enough surrounded by traps and unfamiliar pointy objects, but now that she has to entrust her safety, and Rapunzel’s, to a stranger? No thanks.

“Raps, are you sure you wanna—Rapunzel?”

The princess has already single-handedly strapped herself in. “Let’s do this!”

Cassandra turns on Varian, but he’s staring at Rapunzel, dumbstruck. He blinks twice before chuckling nervously.

“Okay! Rapunzel, heh.” He sets the second machine down on the platform before moving to the straps around her ankles. “Love your enthusiasm, but let’s get you set up _safely.”_

“Oh! Sorry,” she laughs, feet touching the ground as Varian unlatches the last strap. “Guess I got a bit excited there.”

He laughs with her, significantly less nervous, and starts searching for the end of Rapunzel’s long hair. “Don’t worry, I know what you mean. There’s nothing quite like the thrill of discovery, is there? Every time I learn something new, I get carried away, and—”

And he’s babbling again. Cassandra follows the path of Rapunzel’s hair to its end, buried in a puddle of blonde at her own feet. She snatches it up and forces herself between them. Varian shuts up the instant Cass drops the hair into his arms.

“This is riveting, but let me make something clear,” she says dryly. “If Rapunzel gets a single scratch, what happens to her happens to you. Got it?” She grabs him by the collar and pulls him down to her face.

“Cass!” Rapunzel scolds behind her.

Cassandra doesn’t let go yet; instead, she tightens her grip. Varian’s eyes are comically wide, (and she _ignores_ how palely that gray-blue stands out against his tanned skin,) and she narrows her glare.

“Got it,” he replies in a small voice. When Cass lets go, he stretches his neck and steps up onto the platform.

“Sorry about that,” Rapunzel says, pulling Cass to her side and none-too-subtly stepping in front of her. Cass scoffs.

“No problem, she just doesn’t want you getting hurt.” Varian leans backwards to look past Rapunzel to Cass. “Are you her bodyguard, or something?”

“She’s my lady-in-waiting,” Rapunzel chirps before Cassandra can even inhale.

“I’m the daughter of the captain of the guard,” Cass says, frowning at the back of Rapunzel’s head.

If Varian noticed her scowl, he doesn’t mention it. He nods, looping Rapunzel’s hair in a figure-eight between the uppermost strap and a knob at the top of the machine. “Okay, that should do it.” He walks back to them, Rapunzel’s hair trailing over his gloved hand as he makes sure there’s enough slack. “I’ve been using this machine since I was fourteen,” he says. “It’ll be perfectly safe, but I will set up some extra precautions.”

Varian gives Rapunzel his big coat and an extra pair of goggles, and Cassandra receives the welding mask he’d worn when they first saw one another. He clears off a table and leans it on its side, and the girls crouch behind the makeshift barricade; there’s even enough room for Eugene, who inevitably bursts in after the first few tests. There’s no protective wear left for Eugene, but he’s too busy squealing in terror to get out from behind the table; he stays mostly curled up, with his arms wrapped around Rapunzel’s waist, trying to pull her back down to safety. Rapunzel, however, watches Varian’s machine with reckless excitement, neck craned out, only anchored by Eugene’s grip on her waist.

Cass barely peeks over the edge of the table, despite how the mask protects her entire face. She’s tempted to tell Varian to trade her the next time he pauses to untangle Rapunzel’s hair from the machine; he has the same concerningly half-wild grin as the princess, but he’s not even using his goggles.

“Amazing!” Rapunzel’s hair breaks the _spinning_ sharp thing off the machine, and it flies right at Varian. He ducks, shielding his face with his arms as it cuts off the side of the control panel, which falls the ground with a few sparks. “You were right, it’s absolutely unbreakable!”

And he _still_ doesn’t put on his goggles.

Cass sees where his reputation and the rumors come from a few minutes later, when a high-pitched whistling outside makes Varian’s face pale.

Neither Eugene nor Rapunzel notice his uneasiness, but it should be obvious. His laugh is unsteady when he teaches Eugene the controls, (who he’d managed to win over after a solid five minutes of gushing over the Flynn Rider books,) and he _leaves_ the idiot with the controls. But the control panel seems simple enough that Cass feels okay leaving the idiot too. At least, she trusts that Eugene wouldn’t let anything happen to Rapunzel.

“Just in case,” she says, giving Eugene the welding mask. “I’m going to see what’s up.”

Cass runs out before he can give a snarky reply, and she finds Varian at the back of his house. He’s kneeling right outside the doorway of a rickety shed, and it takes Cass a moment to make out a bulky structure of black metal hidden in its shadows. It’s smoking, but she smells nothing.

“Varian!”

He jumps to his feet, wearing the same scared expression he’d worn when she threatened him, but it slips into a ridiculously fake smile when he recognizes her.

“Hey...Cassie?”

“It’s Cass, not Cassie,” she corrects him tersely, approaching. “What’s going on?”

His smiles falls and his brow furrows into a tense line. He kneels down again and goes right back to tinkering with the machine, tapping on a dial.

“It’s a one-sixteenth scale model of a hot water tank,” he states, voice low and serious as he gradually turns a knob. The fingers of his other hand tap restlessly against his leather apron. “It’s overheating.”

“What?”

“The, uh, compound I’m using to heat the water—it doesn’t have a name yet—it’s really potent.” He doesn’t look up as he points out a smaller tank attached to the massive structure with his free hand. “Too much leaked in.”

“How?”

“Some–something must be wrong with the valve,” he clears his throat when his voice grows tight, but it wobbles anyway. “I mean, this stuff is _really_ potent; it only takes a drop to heat an entire barrel, so I’m working with fractions of drops. Right now, the water’s evaporating at a rapid pace, so the steam is building up faster than I can release it. And I have to release it gradually, things could get worse if I release it all at once.” He gestures helplessly at the knob he’s been turning.

“It’s just steam,” Cass says, relieved.

Varian does not share her relief. “I _can’t_ let this happen again,” he mutters.

She wants to ask what he means, but the tank shudders with a piercing creak. Varian freezes.

Cass seizes him by the arm and pulls them out of the way.

The front of the tank splits open and gallons of water gush out, flooding the pasture. Sprayed droplets dissipate in midair, and scraps of metal fly out and pierce the dirt. The two of them are safely out of the way, tucked against the side of the shed, but the steam rising off the ground warms Cassandra’s face. She’d never wondered what boiled grass smelled like, but she knows now.

Varian pushes himself up, the muscles in his bicep tensing, and Cassandra jolts away. She clenches her fists and tucks them against her chest, stock-still. Varian kneels in the grass beside her and runs a hand through his hair, staring at the flooded field. After a moment, he faces her with a barely-there smile.

“Thank you,” he says, breathless from adrenaline, before he furrows his brow. “How does one address a woman who’s a knight? _Milady?_ I forget.”

Somewhat embarrassed, Cass stands up and brushes dirt off her clothes. “Nothing. They don’t exist.”

Varian laughs, bracing himself against his knee when he rises. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

He nods. “That’s plenty of time to change Corona’s mind.”

She blinks.

...What? That’s it?

They’ve known each other for less than an hour and barely talked, but he’d already picked up what her life-long dream is? And _that’s_ his reaction? No reaction? Cass had expected something. Anything.

“You...don’t think it’s strange? A girl who wants to be a fighter, or on the guard, or something?”

“Well, you’re capable enough to be the first in the kingdom.”

Cass, a little lost for words, searches Varian’s face like she’ll find what to say there. Even when she hears people approach, chatting among themselves fearfully, she doesn’t look at them.

“Don’t think anything’s salvageable,” he murmurs to himself, examining the scattered pieces. “Couldn’t even see what went wrong…”

Cass wishes she knew what to say. If only she were Rapunzel in that moment: Varian seemed to have a lot in common with the princess, and Raps would know how to smooth this over—she’s charming and sweet and sincere.

Cassandra, however, isn’t.

She opens her mouth, hoping the right words will come if she just speaks.

Varian snaps his fingers. “Dame.”

Her mouth shuts. “What?”

“That’s the title for a woman of equal rank to a knight. A Dame.” He turns to her, but the gleam in his eye is dimmed. “It’s got different connotations, though, doesn’t it?”

He’s clearly trying to distract himself, but Cass can do that. If there’s anything Cassandra knows, it’s how to set aside her feelings so she can soldier on. “Yeah. When I hear ‘dame,’ I think of someone like Old Lady Crowley.”

He does sound somewhat amused when he repeats, “Old Lady Crowley?”

“She’s the matron at the castle, in charge of all the maids and handmaidens. She’s a grouch.”

“Probably exactly how one would imagine someone named Crowley to be.”

Cass snorts at that. “You’re right. Exactly.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of Dame Cass. There could be some other title, for women who’ve learned how to fight,” Varian muses. “I’ll have to ask my dad.”

Cass wants to ask, _your dad? Why?_ but she’s stopped when a deep voice calls out for Varian behind them.

He stiffens, turning around and taking a step out into the open, away from Cassandra. A tall, broad-chested man—bigger than her father, bigger than the _king_ —with graying hair runs toward Varian. Cass expects the young man to flinch, but he doesn’t: Varian stands firm, though his features are set in guilt.

The man puts his hands on Varian’s shoulders as he checks him for harm. “Son, are you okay? What happened?”

He brushes Varian’s hair out of his face and _oh,_ Cass thinks. This must be Quirin.

When Varian speaks, Cass barely hears him, even though they aren’t far apart at all. “Dad, I–I’m sorry.”

Something flashes across Quirin’s face as he pieces together what’s happened, but it’s quickly replaced by a grimace. “Not again, Varian…”

Varian stiffens as Quirin turns away. “But…Dad—”

Quirin raises his arms towards the crowd; he towers over Varian. “Is everybody okay?”

Cassandra hesitates briefly, but she places her hand on Varian’s shoulder where his dad’s had been. He hangs his head before reaching up to squeeze her hand, (she swears she can feel how warm his hand is through his glove,) before he pulls away.

“Um, I have to,” he stoops down to grab a piece of scrap metal, “To take care of this.”

Cass looks back towards his house, where Rapunzel and Eugene are no doubt waiting. “Can I help?”

“No, this–this is my mess,” he replies, “And I’m responsible for—oh, shoot!” He smacks his forehead. “The princess. I still have to go over the results of the tests…”

Varian stands up and faces the crowd surrounding his father: he gets glares and dirty looks in return. Going inside, even for a moment, would look bad.

“Are you sure I can’t help?”

He puts his hand to his mouth in thought. “Maybe you could bring the parchment print out here to me? I’ll explain the results to you, and you can fill in the princess?”

“I can do that.” Cassandra runs back to the house.

When she reaches the lab, she grabs the paper from Fitzherbert’s hands, (who’s turning it around and tilting his head, as if that’ll help him make sense of it.) She makes an excuse for Varian along the lines of, “he’s needed outside and can’t get away,” and runs back out.

Varian perks up when he sees her again, setting the pile of scraps at his feet. He thanks her and takes the paper, but while he examines it, his smile fades. Cass bites her lip and grabs one side of the sheet so they both can look at it.

“So…for the most part, Rapunzel’s hair is normal.” He reaches into his pocket, taking out a stick of graphite, and sketches a quick yet clean diagram of what Cassandra assumes to be a strand of hair. “We already know about its unusual tensile strength, but I don’t even know how to calculate that, it’s so high. However, there is...something.”

“What is it?” Cass asks.

“That’s the problem.” Varian taps at a spot under a long list of symbols and abbreviations: a solid black blob. “This means that my machine detected something it doesn’t recognize. It tried to record it, but since the element had no notation, the ink just pooled.”

“Like pressing a quill down on one spot of a parchment too hard,” Cass says, and he nods. “So what could it be?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had this issue before. My machine can recognize every common material, and even a few rare things, but this…” He sighs. “I don’t know. If I had a lock of her hair to study for a few days, I might figure it out, but—”

“It’s unbreakable.”

Varian nods miserably. Something in Cass’s chest twists in sympathy—dealing with one perceived failure on top of another, facing a judgmental crowd, looking up into the face of a disappointed father—and though she can’t place what she’s feeling, she wants him to feel better, and she wants to be the one to do it.

“Well, it’s more than we had before,” Cass says, slowly taking the paper back and rolling it up. “Would you like to hold onto this, or do you want us to take it?”

“Whichever you prefer,” Varian replies, stooping back down to pick up the scrap metal again. “If you don’t want it, you can put it on my desk.”

Cass looks down at the scroll in her hand. “You’ll probably be able to do more with this than any of us could.”

He nods, walking away to pick up some bolts. Cass moves to follow him, but stops in her tracks. What is up with her? Why doesn’t she want to leave yet?

“Uh, I have to get Rapunzel back to the castle before sundown,” she says, fidgeting.

“You’ll want to leave soon, then,” Varian nods at the sky. “If you guys have horses, you’ll make it in time.”

“Yeah, we do.” Cass shuffles, trying not to wring the paper in her hands. “Varian, I—thank you. And, uh, if we find anything else, I’ll tell you. About it. If that’s okay.”

He turns back at her, smiling softly. “No problem. Send me a message whenever you want. And thanks again for saving me.”

“No problem!” Cass echoes.

Varian walks away, adjusting his hold on the metal to wave at her. “See you later, Cass-not-Cassie.”

Cass stands alone in the field, frozen, before she shakes herself awake. She has to get Rapunzel home safely and tell her about her hair.

She takes a deep breath, hoping to calm herself. The danger’s passed.

So why is her heart still beating frantically?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cass’s heart:!!! Boy! Nice boy!!  
> Cass: What’s wrong? Do I need to fight him? Is he going to do something? What’s wrong? Why are you like this?
> 
> (The black blob of ink on the parchment is magic. Varian doesn't believe in it yet, so he didn't create a notation for it.)
> 
> BTW, the feminine equivalent of a knight is a dame (rank-wise, at least. I don’t think there was an official term for lady knights). And! In the original fairy tale, Gothel is Dame Gothel. So that’s a neat coincidence!


	3. (Character Designs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How I envision Cassandra and Varian in this story. However, if you see them differently, then go ahead and ignore this! I drew these for myself and those who want to visualize them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like the tags say, I have depression and executive dysfunction, so it may take me a while to finish this. However, I've yet to abandon a fanfiction, and don't plan to start now!
> 
> I appreciate those of you who have been waiting for the next part! I really appreciate your kudos and comments (in fact, they fuel me) and I'm glad to have you here.


	4. Great Expotations, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra has an endless to-do list, but if she manages to complete it, she has the chance to shadow her dad at work and see firsthand how the royal guard functions. Varian offers his assistance before his invention gets judged at the Exposition of Sciences.  
> Now why would he do a thing like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varian's still getting used to having friends, so he's all awkward charm and charming awkwardness. Eugene is suspicious.
> 
> Varian: you joke around with friends, right? You act funny and make them laugh? I think that's how you make friends…  
> (Rapunzel laughs)  
> Eugene: >:( HEY

“I don’t see why the lady-in-waiting has to help set up for this thing.” Cassandra grumbles to Owl (well, mostly herself) as she struggles to tie up a massive banner. 

The guards walking past are too focused on making their rounds to notice her. Festivals have the tightest security, simply because there’s a higher chance of crime with the entire kingdom distracted; however, this exposition is taking every man her father can spare. 

Cass tightens her fists, scrunching up the weave on the rope, and refocuses on the banner. “Dumb science expo’s for dorks, anyway.”

“Hey, Cass-not-Cassie!”

She nearly falls off the ladder. _Varian?_ She flushes, hoping he hadn’t overheard her snide comment.

Smiling, Varian waits at the foot of her ladder, arms crossed over the handlebar of a pallet cart. Whatever he’s lugging around is at least as large as a barrel, but its hidden beneath a tarp. 

“Varian!” She hastily ties the knot and descends the ladder. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

Of course he’d be here today: he’s an alchemist and engineer _and_ inventor. Why is she surprised?

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He laughs and stands up straight, smoothing out the tarp. “But I wouldn’t miss a chance to promote the merits of alchemy, just wait ‘til—”

Owl hoots in distress—the rope had slipped loose, and though he caught it, he’s struggling to hold the banner up. 

“Oh, f...” She gathers up her skirt to climb the ladder again, but Varian beats her to it. “...fiddlesticks.”

He grabs the rope from Owl and secures it to the beam in a solid knot. Cass cringes in embarrassment; should she thank him, or tell him not to do her job for her, or—

“Cassandra, lookin’ good!” Rapunzel runs towards them with Eugene on her heels (and she’s wearing the most ridiculous—) “You should see these crazy goggles!” 

Cass wishes she hadn't seen them, they're such a clunky eyesore, but Rapunzel’s not even looking at her. She’s staring up at Varian, who glances at Cass awkwardly.

Rapunzel adjusts the frames, focusing the lens. “Oh! Hi, Varian!”

“Hey, princess!” He climbs halfway down the ladder before jumping to the ground. “Are you two ready for the expo?”

“So ready!” Rapunzel chirps. Cass fiddles with the gauzy apron attached to her skirt as Varian talks to the princess. 

Eugene gestures at the cart. “Is that your entry?”

“Yep! Rumor has it, it’s a shoo-in for the first prize in the contest.” He leans over the cart and lowers his voice to a mock-whisper. “I may have started the rumor.”

Rapunzel laughs, and Cass sees her own irritation echoed in Eugene, who puts his arm around Rapunzel’s shoulders and pulls her closer.

“So what’s this about?” Eugene asks. “Any spinning sawblades on this thing?”

The subtle dig chafes at Cassandra.

“Heh, right,” Varian chuckles. He runs his hands over the tarp again, like he’s brushing the comment off. “Yeah, not on this, but just wait until you see it. I think everyone will be impressed.”

Rapunzel starts asking questions, pushing for Varian to tell her what he’s invented; he refuses to answer any of them, pursing his lips to (unsuccessfully) hold back a smile. Eugene sticks close to Rapunzel’s side. Judging by his face, he’s probably feeling somewhat similarly to Cass right now, but neither Rapunzel nor Varian seem to notice.

Cassandra glances at the banner once more before she leaves. There are more chores for her to do, after all.

At a first glance, the tables look pristine, but Cass knows that if anyone could find a flaw in her work, (besides her father or Lady Crowley,) it’ll be one of the eagle-eyed, detail-oriented nerds in attendance today. She makes her rounds between the tables a third time, brushing flecks of lint off the tablecloths and trying to fluff up the flowers.

“Hey, Cass.” 

She turns; Varian stands beside one of the tables she hadn’t triple-checked yet. “Sorry for dropping out in the middle of our conversation earlier.”

Cassandra smooths out the tablecloth, feeling somewhat self-conscious; she must’ve picked up this nervous tic from Varian and his tarp. “I thought it was finished.”

“Nah, I didn’t get the chance to ask how you’ve been doing.” She almost blushes at his words, until he adds something that makes her blanch. “But Rapunzel told me you broke your leg.”

Oh no, she didn’t say how, did she? “When?”

“Right after you walked off.”

If Cass had known that Rapunzel was going to mention that, she would have stuck around. “It was just a minor fracture.”

“And she lost her healing powers?”

Cass nods, and Varian winces.

“That’s a terrible way to find out.”

“I’m fine now,” Cass mumbles, grabbing a pitcher to fill a glass she’d somehow missed.

Varian rocks on his heels before asking, “Can I help you with anything?”

She looks up in surprise. “Help? Wha—I don’t need help, I have to—” She cuts herself off with a gasp as the glass overflows. “No!”

Tightening her grip on the now empty pitcher, she storms off. Of course she has to refill this now, on top of cleaning up the spill, on top of _everything else._ Can’t she catch a break today? She’s blinded by frustration when she comes back and tries to mop up the mess.

“Varian, thanks for the offer, but I—” Realizing that the handkerchief isn’t wet, she stares down at the once again spotless table. “The stain! It’s gone, how?”

“Simple.” The alchemist shifts his weight, arms crossed and hips angled. There’s a touch of smugness in his voice as he explains, “Grapes are acidic, by combining the alkalinity from the flowers' barley grass with rock salt, I was able to stop the stain's adhesion.”

She stares, dumbstruck. He puts a hand to his chest and bows slightly. “Alchemy.”

Oh, he’s definitely smug about this. But for once, listening to some guy boast doesn’t bother Cass; judging by that little trick, he deserves it. She sighs.

“I can’t let you help me.”

Varian arches a brow. “Really? That’s an official rule?”

“No, but don’t you have to set up for your presentation?” She asks. “I’ve seen some of the other contestants doing demonstrations.”

“My invention doesn’t lend itself well to demonstration,” he admits, and when he rubs his neck, he’s back to his normal, awkward self. “And it won’t take long to set up, I’m presenting second-to-last anyway. I mean, I don’t have much to do.”

Cass thinks it over. Why Varian wants to help her is a mystery, but the thought of spending hours with him makes her both anxious and eager. And what’s up with Varian sparking contradictory emotions within her by doing nothing but standing in the same room? But with him, she’ll be able to meet up with her father sooner.

“Okay. Deal.”

In two hours, Cassandra and Varian complete half the list. Cass had expected it would take twice that long. 

By the time it takes her to polish five spoons by hand, he’s invented some gadget that’ll polish five in _seconds_. If he’s so casual about this, which is more practical than half the stuff at the expo, what crazy invention has he deemed worthy to compete?

Then there’s the muddy hallway outside the armory, which would take half an hour for them both to mop, but Varian takes care of it in a puff of smoke and a matter of seconds. Well, his shirt catches on fire, but once he’s patted that out and laughed it off, he’s fine. Cass is still antsy about it, though.

Then, as if Varian hasn’t impressed her enough, he resurrects flowers.

And Cass has never been able to talk so freely. They mostly focus on work, but when a conversation sparks, (usually after she asks something along the lines of “how’d you do that?”) they move from one topic to another in an easy flow. He lets her talk, and he listens.

They’re polishing the frames in the portrait halls while Cassandra tells Varian about the Challenge of the Brave. It’s clearly _not_ his thing, but he pays attention to her anyway as he stands on a ladder to reach the top of the frames.

“Ever since I heard of it, I’ve dreamed of competing,” she admits.

He grins. “Sounds right up your alley.”

Cass nods, somewhat embarrassed. He’s never actually seen her fight, so he must have assumed her skills are as extensive as her knowledge of sword sharpening techniques.

“Yeah, it’s…” she takes a deep breath. “I finally got permission from my dad to go watch it, but Rapunzel entered at the last minute.”

Varian stops and leans against the wall, his expression torn between amusement, concern, and confusion. “And she didn’t get squished?”

“No. I mean, it was close, but her hair…” Cass mimes a huge orb surrounding her, but it only makes Varian fully confused. “I’ll explain later. But no, she...won.”

“What?” Varian drops his washcloth into the bucket. “How?”

Cass scoffs and scrubs the frame around a portrait of the queen. “She danced her way through the contest, literally. She made a mockery of the whole event and acted like it was a fun way to spend a weekend, but that’s not what it is.”

“And you’re worried no one will take the Challenge seriously again?”

She jolts, fumbling to catch her washcloth.

“I...yeah, exactly.”

Varian looks at her—just looks, studying her the way she stares at her reflection in a polished sword, barely even half a second—before he descends the ladder.

“You were anxious earlier today,” he says, seemingly out of nowhere. “Is something big supposed to happen today?”

Cass swallows. Varian isn’t just observant, he’s forthright. Most people don't speak this openly with those who aren't close friends. She doubts he’s had many friends and thus never learned these unspoken boundaries, but…

She’s mostly grateful that someone respects her.

She drapes her cloth over a rung on the ladder. “My dad says that if I finish all my chores on time, I can shadow him at the expo and get some experience.”

“Right, because he’s the captain.”

“But you’ve seen this list,” she says, pulling it out of her pocket, (which is the only good thing about this dumb dress.) “I mean, it feels endless. Without your help—”

Cass stops, narrowing her eyes at Varian, and thinks back to what happened after the water heater exploded: the small talk, his insistence on working. And judging by his semi-guilty expression, he knows what she’s realized.

“You’re trying to distract yourself.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t hide the fear gleaming in his eyes at being caught. “No I’m not?”

Now she’s _certain_ he’s never lied to her before, because she surely would have caught him with how unconvincing he is.

She glares, nearly pouting. “Yes, you are.”

He shuffles on his feet, not meeting her eyes. When she doesn’t budge, he caves surprisingly quickly. “I _really_ hope my invention wins. If Master Dr. St. Croix likes it, then maybe my dad…”

Cass worries that her breathing could interrupt him.

His shoulders slump. “Well, he’ll at least see how serious I am about alchemy and engineering. I mean, he’s the village leader and I’m supposed to follow in his footsteps, so his standards for me need to be high, but…” Varian trails off and leans back against the wall, tugging on his gloves.

Cass can only stand there and stare. Varian’s brow furrows heavily over the long slope of his nose, and the curve of his jaw is tense. 

She’s no good with feelings; she doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say to him. He spent the day helping her with the list of tasks that her dad gave her, though she never asked him to, and she can’t return the favor.

But she wants to say something and try, at least. “Yeah, my dad’s hard to impress too.”

(Ugh, she’s made it about herself again.)

But Varian snorts and turns to her, grinning. “Dads, am I right?”

She can’t help but smile back, but the chiming of a distant clock distracts her. She groans.

“Well then.” His bright-eyed expression doesn’t fade as he readjusts the cuffs of his sleeves, ensuring they’re secure above his elbows. “Let’s finish off that list.”

He climbs up the ladder again and tosses Cass her washcloth. 

“Thanks,” she says. “For all of this. I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says, taking one step down the ladder to work on the king’s portrait. “It’s the kind of thing friends do, right?”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but when it does, she smiles softly. “Right. Friends.”

When they have to take care of the guest rooms, Varian suggests they divide and conquer. Cass starts on the left side of the hallway. Her feelings are torn between disappointment at time apart and relief to recollect her nerves, and it’s still. So. Frustrating.

“Cass?”

Rapunzel leans around the doorway, visible from the shoulders-up, her braid dangling to the floor. Cass can’t help but perk up; even when she’s exhausted, Raps’s warmth is infectious.

“Hey, Raps. What’s up?”

“I’ve been inventing. I want to make something as cool as all the stuff I’ve seen.”

Cass’s grip on the duvet tightens. Knowing Rapunzel, she’d win the contest by some stroke of luck, leaving Varian disappointed in himself again.

She tucks the duvet taut beneath the mattress. “What have you made?”

“Mostly stuff that already exists,” Rapunzel groans and flops back onto the bed.

“You’re wrinkling the sheets!”

The princess yelps and jumps right up. “Sorry.”

Cass flips back the covers, and Rapunzel helps her straighten out the bedding. Cass grumbles. “It’s fine.” 

“Anyway, I’ve been running around the castle to get inspiration. Was that Varian I spotted with you?”

“He’s been helping me.”

“Aw, that’s sweet of him!”

Normally when the princess starts gushing, Cass can ignore it, but she feels somewhat defensive of Varian right now. Maybe it’s something about Rapunzel gushing over Varian specifically, but the princess hasn’t said anything to warrant such defensiveness. Cass arranges the pillows. “It is.”

Rapunzel’s hands slow over the sheets. “He seems kinda lonely, doesn’t he?”

 _You have no idea,_ Cassandra wants to say. After all, the princess wasn’t the one who saw the aftermath of the water heater explosion. But she did spend her childhood locked in a tower; she’d recognize loneliness like a close, personal friend.

“I think people just don’t give him a chance. He’s…” Cass can’t find a single word that’s enough to describe Varian. “Interesting.”

As sincerely as she meant that, it sounds like a backhanded compliment. 

Rapunzel nods in agreement. “And you’ve spent most of the day with him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cass grabs a pillow to fluff up.

“Nothing, it’s just impressive. Everyone else gets on your nerves really quickly.”

Cass smiles softly. “Maybe. Varian’s my friend, though.”

“You must like him a lot.”

Cassandra jolts at that. Did Rapunzel think over the implications of her words? It doesn’t seem like it, since she’s not watching Cass for some kind of reaction, but how should she react? She’s already said that they’re friends, but what else—

“Cass?”

She shakes herself out of her daze. “What? Right, he’s cool.”

 _Smooth recovery there._ Cass realizes she didn’t let go of the pillow, and her fingers are digging into the plush. She mechanically sets it down and looks over the room once more. Rapunzel, still talking, follows Cassandra to the next room.

They prepare the next two guest rooms together until Rapunzel is struck by inspiration and runs off. Cass meets up with Varian outside the door of the last room: he makes the bed—easier for him, with his long limbs, but still time consuming—while she ensures the drawers are empty.

Cass opens and shuts the nightstands, dresser, and wardrobe, wishing that she were doing something more interesting. Now her mind is wandering, searching for something to occupy itself, but it keeps returning to what Rapunzel said.

Cass thought Raps had meant—but no, that’s not it. It can’t be it. Cass will grind that thought under her heel, because she’s not going to think about it. She can ignore it. Whatever she’s feeling, it’ll pass soon: Varian is her friend, and she’s just not used to having friends. No one’s tried to be her friend like Varian has.

“Anything else we need to take care of here?”

Cass shuts the wardrobe. “I don’t think so.”

“What next?”

She reaches into her pocket to pull out the list but stops. She’s stared at this list all day, she’s memorized it, and she’s been looking forward to this moment all day. Cassandra can’t help but laugh in relief.

“We only have to bring the laundry cart downstairs. Then we’re finished for the day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @DG_DarkFantasy came up with some of the dialogue in the hallway scene. Since this is a server AU, I'll be crediting other contributers, but most of this is still mine.
> 
> I don't think that this Varian--an adult with completely platonic affection for this girl--would offer to do _all_ of Cassandra's chores on her behalf. So instead, they keep working as a team! And he doesn't need her assistance, since he's not a boy with noodle arms anymore.  
> And I didn't get to work in "Co-Ladies-in-Waiting" like I wanted. Boo.


End file.
